


Maximum Load Capacity

by curiumKingyo



Series: Connor's Guide to the Love and Care of Hank Anderson [6]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Android shenanigans, Bottom Hank, Established Relationship, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Top Connor, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-08-21 00:11:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16565828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curiumKingyo/pseuds/curiumKingyo
Summary: "During their partnership, first, as police officers and then as romantic partners, Connor has shown many times that his looks are deceiving. Hank is perfectly aware that he is not as fragile as his lean, spry build suggests. He never expected Connor’s real power to be so… surprising? Impressive? Intimidating?"Connor uses his android strength to manhandle Hank like a dainty little sex doll. Alternative title: Do you even lift?





	Maximum Load Capacity

Hank had never thought about how strong Connor really is. In a first moment because he didn't care, and afterward because he, well, didn't care. They are different kinds of not caring, though. At first, he simply didn't care for Connor or any android for that matter, too full of hatred and prejudice to even see the obvious advantages of a robotic officer. After the revolution, or even before it, when he started seeing Connor as a living creature and not an object, he simply forgot that despite his human-like mind and soul, Connor's body is an artificial thing.

Even after he learned about android maintenance it slipped his mind that Connor's body was built following instructions, a perfect combination of high-quality materials and top-notch technology. Therefore, it never occurred to him to go and ask 'hey, Con, how much weight can you lift?’

The answer, as it manifests in front of his eyes, seems to be: a lot.

They are at the DPD kitchen and one of the officers has accidentally spilled milk all over the floor and a lot of it ended up under the fridge. After they cleaned up around Hank comments that they should clean under it too, or the milk trapped there would spoil and stink the entire kitchen.

“This fucking fridge is too heavy to move!” The officer responsible for the incident complains as he tries to push the appliance away.

“I can help,” Connor offers, polite as always. The officer steps away to give Connor space.

Hank continues sipping his coffee, watching with little attention as Connor crouches a little and puts his arms around the fridge. After he makes sure it is well secured he casually, effortlessly, pulls it out of the floor. Not simply moves it aside or tugs it a few inches up, he takes the entire appliance a couple feet over the ground, without even showing any sign of struggle.

Hank, however, struggles as he watches the scene. He almost chokes on his coffee, eyes widening and face heating up as Connor holds the fridge up patiently while the officer cleans the floor. During their partnership, first, as police officers and then as romantic partners, Connor has shown many times that his looks are deceiving. Hank is perfectly aware that he is not as fragile as his lean, spry build suggests. He never expected Connor’s real power to be so… surprising? Impressive? Intimidating?

He can’t even put a word to it, he just knows how this knowledge makes him feel. It makes him both weak on the knees and hot down his neck, and he shamefully hides his pink face behind his mug of coffee.

Thankfully no one seems to notice his predicament and when the floor is cleaned and normalcy is restored he has already cooled down. For the rest of the day, he keeps stealing quick glances at Connor whenever the droid is handling any objects. He observes how he delicately holds pens or the styrofoam cup he fills with water to try to bring life back to Hank’s dry bonsai tree. And he also takes note of how easily Connor handles the box of evidence one of the droid detectives gives him by the end of their shift.

Once the box is down and Connor is no longer paying attention to it Hank quickly tries to move it. It is much heavier than the easy way Connor handled it suggested.

“Hank, are you okay?” Connor asks in the car as they make their way home.

“Peachy,” Hank replies, and he forcibly relaxes the iron grip he has on the wheel.

“You seem tense” Connor insists, tilting his head aside in his typical manner. Hank grumbles in reply, unsure himself about how to broach the subject. Connor lands a gentle hand on Hank’s thigh, a soothing gesture the android has learned with him.

“Connor, do you know your specifications by heart?”

The question gives Connor pause. The droid looks at his human counterpart, eyebrows slightly raised as his LED blinks yellow for a quick second.

“I can easily access them if this is what you mean,” Connor says. “Also, we have a copy of my original blueprint at home.”

“We do?”

“It was a gift from Chloe,” Connor says dutifully. “But if you have any questions about my hardware or software I believe I will be able to answer you here anyway.”

“It’s… it’s ah… “ Hank stammers, eyes laser-focus on the empty road ahead. “It’s a bit embarrassing, okay?”

Connor’s reply is silent. He squeezes Hank’s leg gently and when the older man chances a glance the android merely smiles, encouragingly. Hank drums his fingers against the wheel and takes some deep breaths before licking his lips and speaking.

“Just how much weight can you lift?” Hank asks in one breath.

“In optimal conditions, I am able to lift 350 kilograms for an indefinite amount of time,” Connor replies dutifully. Hank fixes him an annoyed stare through the rear mirror and Connor rolls his eyes before adding “About 770 pounds.”

Hank whistles through his teeth, and he is glad that the road is dark enough to hide the blush on his face. He has lost some weight in the last months living with Connor, but he is still a big and heavy man, a little below 200 pounds. Heavy for most humans, but still light for Connor, less than half of his maximum capacity.

A shiver runs down his spine, and the effects must show on his face because once more Connor is staring at him with a worried look on his face.

“Hank?” Connor calls, softly, his LED spinning yellow and his eyebrows furrowing down.

“Sorry, it is just so strange to think about it,” Hank says, still not meeting Connor’s eyes.

“What is strange?”

The road is empty and Hank slows down so he can look at Connor. Under the passing yellow lights of the street lamps he looks even more delicate than he normally does, the shadows playing on his features and making him look thinner and paler. Connor’s hand is still lightly placed on Hank’s thigh, he barely feels it but now that he knows just how strong the android is the lightness of the touch makes him a little dizzy.

“It is strange to think that you’re so much more than you seem,” Hank says, lost on his own contemplations. “You surprise me every day with your ideas, your analysis of cases and life, you react and learn and grow so much I somehow keep forgetting you are not a human,” he hesitates for a second before adding. “I keep forgetting you are a perfect being.”

Hank turns his eyes back to the road. They are a few blocks away from home and the atmosphere in the car is suddenly thick and heavy. He starts to regret his words, he could have just lied or changed the subject but his honesty seems to have affected Connor. They don’t usually discuss Connor’s nature and Hank fears he might have offended him.

Connor’s LED continues circling in yellow, its glow painting the interior of the car and sharpening Connor’s features. Hank wants to speak, he wants to say something that will melt away the oddness of the situation but he just can’t think of anything. Their house peeks from between sparse trees and street lamps and he knows something must be done before they leave the car. He doesn’t want to bring this tension into the house.

“It was the fridge,” Connor says, all of a sudden. Hank makes an inquisitive noise, still trapped on his inner debate. “You started to act oddly today after the incident in the kitchen. Seeing me lifting the fridge had an effect on you.”

Hank pulls over at the driveway and kills the engine, he releases the seatbelt in order to turn and face Connor. The android's LED is spinning fast but it has changed back to blue, a sign that he is processing a lot of information but his software is stable.

“I wasn't expecting it,” Hank says, slumping on the seat. “Sometimes it is still a little shocking, you know, seeing you doing these android shenanigans.”

“It's not a shenanigan,” Connor sounds defensive and Hank smiles softly at him.

“I know, I know,” Hank raises his hands in a placating gesture. “But it was so non-human, but so natural and it just had a strong effect in me.”

Connor's hand, still so light on Hank's leg, suddenly feels a lot heavier. Hank swallows audibly in response, heat spiking down his neck and face, pupils dilating in the dark of the car. Connor registers the quickening of his pulse, the temperature rising, the quick swipe of his tongue across dry lips.

“You find it arousing,” Connor says, the pressure of his hand growing minutely. There is no accusation on his voice, just a sort of fascination that makes his own processors run a little faster.

As if to prove his point Connor leans in closer, invading Hank's personal space and gently pressing his nose to the hot and vibrating pulse point in Hank's neck. His hand presses down on the human's leg, impossibly solid and heavy despite being so lean. It doesn't hurt, that's not the point, but it binds Hank down, makes it impossible for him to move.

Hank's heart is beating double time, his palms are sweating and his throat is parched. His eyes slip closed against his will when he feels Connor's false eyelashes brushing lightly against his neck.

“It makes sense,” Connor says in a speculative tone. “You’re a big, strong man, few humans around are stronger than you. It might be a new, enticing feeling to have someone capable of overpowering you.”

Hank moans, low and weak, but undeniable in the otherwise silent night. Connor smirks and presses even more of his great strength down on Hank, his lips brush the softest kisses under Hank’s jaw in a maddening counterpoint.

“How much do you weigh again, Hank?” Connor asks, despite knowing the answer all too well. “About 90 kg, not even 200 pounds, so light… It would be so, so easy to pick you up, hold you with your feet off the ground, keep you there for as long as  _ I _ want.”

It is an early spring night, the temperature is pleasant, the night air chilly but Hank feels hot. He is breathing heavily, his pulse wild under Connor’s lips and words.

“You would be helpless as I bounce you on my cock...”

Connor’s words are cut short by a hungry, desperate kiss. Hank grabs the lapels of his jacket and mashes their faces together, he pants and growls against Connor’s lips as he tries his best to get closer to the android. Connor replies in kind, sucking and licking into Hank’s mouth with purpose.

Hank’s cock, that had been on an unpleasant half chub for a couple hours, fills quickly. He feels his heartbeat on his trapped erection and Connor’s hand, unyielding and warm right in the middle of his thigh, just seems to put more wood on the fire burning his lower belly. Hank’s head is swimming with lust and he barely manages to speak between kisses.

“Connor, please,” he begs, voice rough and he can clearly hear the droning sound of Connor’s cooling fans kicking in when he speaks.

Connor pulls away, the pulsing blue of his LED shines on the spit on his lips as he fumbles to open the door.

“Get in the house,” Connor’s voice is slightly slurred, his processor lagging because of the energy redirected to his sex hardware.

They leave the car in a hurried mess. Hank’s foot gets caught on the seat belt and Connor almost closes the tails of his jacket on the door, but they manage to the front door of the house in record time anyway. Hank throws it open with little regard for the wood or the wall behind it - it bangs loudly as they stumble in and wakes Sumo from his slumber.

Sumo watches them for a few seconds, but when it becomes clear that his masters are more concerned with each other than with him he just goes to the kitchen where he flops down and falls back asleep immediately.

Hank bangs the door close again but Connor doesn’t allow him time to lock it properly, as soon as they are out of public view the android manhandles Hank around until they are face to face again. Hank’s eyes roll back in pleasure when he feels strong hands grabbing his waist and so easily placing him exactly where Connor wants him. Connor kisses him again, pressing their bodies together and pinning Hank against the wall.

Connor’s leg slots between Hank’s and they both groan as they start to grind on each other. Hank’s breathing is shallow and broken, his hands alternating between gripping Connor’s clothes and tearing them off him. Connor isn’t faring much better. He might not need to breathe but his cooling system is making a loud noise as it tries to bring his core back to the regular temperature.

Bit by bit they manage to get rid of their clothes. Hank welcomes the cool night air as it hits his heated skin making the thick grey hairs on his body stand on end. Connor’s hands feel like brands over him, hot, heavy and demanding. He touches Hank everywhere - on his blushing face, down the furious pulse on his throat, across his quivering chest. Hank just opens himself more and more, arms splayed by his sides to grant Connor all the access he wants.

Connor takes his generous offer. The skin on the android’s hands dissolves and he touches Hank with bare plastic fingers. His sensors capture the sweat and heat of his skin and his analysis software sends pleasant pulses to his main processor when it finds traces of endorphins and serotonin on Hank’s body. Without a second thought, Connor leans in and runs his tongue across Hank’s collarbones, the sensors on his mouth much more accurate than the ones in his hands.

Hank is swimming in hormones and neurotransmitters that are easily picked by Connor’s software. They are undeniable proof of how much Hank enjoys this, how happy and pleased he is. Not that a chemical analysis is necessary to prove it, a simple look at his glassy blue eyes and shiny red cock are more than enough.

“The lube is in the bedroom,” Connor speaks through his inbuilt speakers, his mouth still busy licking and sucking on Hank’s skin.

“Fuck it,” Hank spits in reply and he wrenches one of Connor’s hands and brings it to his own mouth. He sucks his fingers in, saliva already pooling in his mouth. Connor’s speakers buzz with static when Hank starts to thoroughly lick his fingers, coating them in spit.

“I appreciate the initiative but you know human saliva is not the right consistency to be used as lube,” Connor manages to say after he manually closes some secondary programs in his task manager in order to free memory to process the situation.

Hank lets go of his fingers with a loud, obscene slurp.

“Then use your own,” he demands, grinding down on Connor’s thigh and making them both moan. Connor smirks and kisses Hank, hard and brutal before he starts to lick and suck on his own fingers.

Connor’s mouth drips with thick fluid. The original finality of it is lubricating the moving parts of Connor’s face and keep the synthetic muscles elastic but they learned early on that it is also good for intimate lubrication.

Once his fingers are glistening with thick spit Connor crowds Hank against the wall. Hank’s arms instinctively wrap around Connor’s shoulders and the android doesn’t even make a sound as he grabs Hank’s leg with his free hand and pulls him off the ground.

Hank moans, head spinning with desire as he feels his body become weightless in Connor’s hand. He crosses his legs around Connor, his feet locking on the small of the android’s back. The position makes him open to Connor’s probing fingers and the young man wastes no time, running his slick fingertips around Hank’s rim a few times before slipping one inside.

They react in unison. Hank’s head thumps back against the wall as Connor hides his own face on Hank’s generous chest. The angle of Connor’s finger is not ideal but the scenario stokes the flames on their guts. Hank’s heart beats fast and hard, the unknown feeling of being fragile makes his entire body shake with adrenaline and lust. He feels Connor’s fingers digging into the soft flesh of his thigh, feels bruises blooming under his plastic nails but he could care less. It’s not like anyone would see them anyway.

Connor’s movements are precise, his finger slipping in and out of Hank as best as the angle allows. His face is pressed on Hank’s chest and he keeps licking at his slightly sweaty skin, kissing the whorls of soft hair, biting on the sensitive nipples. The task list on his mind keeps updating, each moment brings new sensations, new ideas, and he has a difficult time sorting through them.

The first and most important task, though, is pleasing Hank and if the noises and moans are anything to go by he is succeeding on it. Hank’s nails are scrapping the back of Connor’s neck, making pieces of his skin glitch as he tries to find a hold. Connor smirks, plants his feet wider apart and redoubles his efforts between Hank’s legs.

Hank’s back is arched, his shoulders pressing against the wall as he puffs his chest out for Connor’s pleasure. His cock is hard and heavy, the precum welling on the tip makes it shine in the half light and Connor’s sensitive hardware picks traces of its smell in the air. Connor’s mouth fills with analysis fluid and he wants to taste Hank like he has wanted few things in life.

Connor shifts his grip on Hank’s leg, brings him even higher up so he has a better angle to work him open. Hank’s legs are spread around the android’s hips, his hole exposed and now Connor can easily scissor him loose. The new position makes Hank more vulnerable and the effect it has on his emotional state is visible. He moans and whimpers, small sounds so unlike his usual low and growling groans.

Holding Hank would not be hard in other circumstances but right now Connor is starting to overload. His temperature is high and his cooling system is demanding a lot of energy. The thirium is running too fast on his pumps and tubes as it travels to the fans on his back and shoulder and then to the core processor and then to the sexual hardware that is already reaching a critical state. In a matter of seconds he makes an estimative and figures out he will collapse in about seven minutes.

A countdown pops in his HUD and the task list updates.

Make Hanks cum in less than seven minutes.

He angles his fingers just so and grinds on Hank’s prostate, which makes the human moan loud and long. Hank’s hands finally find a place when his fingers tangle on Connor’s hair and when Connor continues to abuse his prostate he curls a little in a vain attempt at protecting himself. Little does he notice that the new position only brings him closer to the attacking fingers.

“I’m good,” Hank manages to say, voice thin between breathless moans. “C’mon, please.”

Connor grinds his teeth as he brings his hand up and spits thickly on its palm. Hank, who usually complains about such displays, doesn’t pay it any mind choosing to simply grind and grope whatever parts of Connor he can reach.

With some effort to keep their balance Connor manages to sneak his hand between their hot bodies and slicks his cock as best as he can. The thirium based cum is already beading on the head of his cock and he uses it to help slick his hardware.

“Tell me if you need to slow down,” Connor says as he uses both hands to hold Hank’s asscheeks wide apart.

Hank’s reply comes in the form of a desperate nod and a feeble attempt at impaling himself down onto Connor’s cock. The android gets the idea and, with a last deep breath to bring down his core temperature, he finally starts to press Hank down on him.

All the noises stop for the few seconds it takes Connor to fully impale Hank. Hank throws his head back, mouth open and soundless, eyes rolling back. Fuck. He had never expected to feel like this. Connor handles him so easily he feels like a doll, light and frail and ready to burst at the seams with how full and hot he is feeling.

Connor’s fingers sink into the softness of Hank’s thighs and he can’t help tightening his grip on them just to feel more of the supple texture. Connor always finds himself fascinated by this little humanities in Hank. The android lifts his lover, a slow and steady rise until his cock is only halfway in, he allows a moment to pass before gently bringing Hank back down.

Hank moans, helpless in Connor’s grip. He is stretched thin already, all the anticipation through the day had him worked up even before they started. Being worked open against the wall only put him that much closer to the end.

Connor’s intention is to keep a steady pace, enjoy each glide of Hank’s entire body against his, feel his muscles wrapping around his cock and his nails digging into his shoulders. Hank appears to have a different idea. First, he is grinding, trying to press his cock between their bodies and to sink that tiny bit more onto Connor’s slick erection. Soon he is mostly bouncing on Connor’s arms. He huffs and pants, a line of drool drips from his open mouth as he breathes noisily with the physical exertion.

There isn’t much Connor can do to deny him at this point, so he simply starts to help. Hank’s skin breaks into goosebumps when he feels the shift in Connor’s posture. A wide stance, a straight back, hands gripping him in s way that is just this side of painful. And then Hank’s world seems to dissolve.

Connor thrusts upwards at the same time as he brings Hank down, burying his cock deep and hard in his lover. Hank sobs in pleasure, the angle and speed overwhelming him. Connor takes a step away from the wall and Hank finds himself completely suspended by Connor’s hands. Without the support of the wall Hank can only cling harder and trust Connor to hold on until they both finish.

The sweat building on Hank’s body makes him slippery and Connor constantly has to adjust his grip. This results in a series of purple and red marks across Hank’s legs, bruises shaped like fingers and crowned with half-moon nail marks. Hank’s head lols back, throat bared and eyes closed. Connor sucks on the wild pulsing point just below his jaw and he feels the spike in his heart beat when he does so.

“I’m so close,” Hanks says and his voice sounds light and airy.

“Jerk off for me,” Connor demands and Hank scrambles to comply.

Hank’s cock is slick and red and when he closes his fist around it he moans loudly. Connor is thrilled by how fast Hank took his order. He makes a small note to look upon this particular moment later.

They move together, pulling and pushing and moaning. Hank squirms and grunts as he tried to go harder, faster, deeper. His hand slides with a loud, wet noise, and precum paints lines and dots on both his and Connor’s bellies. A particularly well-aimed thrust brings Connor’s cock straight against his prostate and tears spring on the corners of his eyes in response.

Connor kisses him when he hears the moan and, when he tastes the tears on Hank’s lips, he feels like he is being punched in the gut. Connor’s orgasm hits him hard, glitches his vision and audio receptors and he stays afloat senseless for as long as it lasts. All he feels is the weight and heat coming from Hank’s body, still suspended in Connor’s grip.

The position makes Connor’s release rush down Hank’s too open hole, stain their legs and drip to the floor. When Hank feels it sloshing inside himself and unceremoniously leaking out he hits his own high. He feels so completely owned and used, unable to control his movements and feeling weightless under Connor’s inhuman strength. His head falls forward and he weakly presses his forehead against Connor’s as he pulses and spills in the hot space between them.

They stay perfectly still for a long while. Hank’s breathing slowly returns to normal and he swallows around his parched throat, heat rises off Connor’s body in whisps of steam.

“Can you stand?” Connor asks, softly and Hank groans in reply.

“I can try,” he says and Connor starts to gently place him back on his feet.

Hank is glad the wall is right there to help him once he is standing up on his own. Damn, has he always been that heavy? He was feeling like a feather only a minute ago but now he is made of lead. Connor leans against the wall by his side and their hands easily find each other, their fingers slip together automatically.

Connor brings their hands up and kisses Hank’s knuckles lovingly as they enjoy the last waves of their high. Once Hank is completely in control of his body once again he takes a small step away from the wall. His hips hurt a little and his hole is sore and dripping so despite his immense desire to just fall on bed he knows he must shower first. Connor follows him, fixing him with an inquisitive gaze.

“Did you like it?”

Hank smirks and shakes his head in reply. He leans down and kisses Connor, deep and unhurried, full of soft warmth and not desperate heat.

“It was amazing, Con,” he says, lips still brushing Connor’s. “I just feel like I’ve run a marathon, I’m fucking sore right now.”

Connor’s LED blinks yellow for less than a second before he realizes Hank is just messing with him. A small window pops up on his HUD and he sees Hank’s healthy and stable vitals and a quick lick to his own lips allow him to analyze Hank’s saliva - it is full of endorphins and a little salt from his overwhelmed tears.

“We should clean up,” Connor observes as he looks around to the clothes strewn around and the puddle of come by their feet.

“We should take a nap,” Hank counters, and as if to prove his point he yawns and scratches at some cum flaking on his belly. Connor analyzes his option.

“First we shower, then we nap,” the android says. “Then I clean while you prepare dinner.”

Hank smiles and plants a soft kiss upon Connor’s lips.

“Perfect plan, Con,” he says, so affectionate that Connor feels a surge of electricity running down his processing cores and thirium rushing to the surface of his skin. His cheeks burn  soft blue and Hank’s smile grows when he sees the reaction. “I love you very much, you know it, right?”

“I’d be a terrible detective if I didn’t,” Connor replies with a little roll of his eyes. “And an even worse being if I didn’t love you back just as much.”

Hank chuckles in response but his cheeks burn a not so subtle pink as he leans down to give Connor one last kiss before putting his plan in action.

**Author's Note:**

> Come hang with me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/curiumkingyo) or [Tumblr](http://burn-gormans-eyelashes.tumblr.com) and if you are feeling generous, take a look at my [Ko-Fi](https://ko-fi.com/O5O8K6GJ#) too <3


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